A Different View of Summer Camp: Two Poems

Monday 19 August 2013 - Filed under Writing

Travelers

This suitcase is the one I took to school,
It has a broken handle you can see,
I wedged it in just like a silly fool
On that trip to Yellowstone in ninety-three.

We’ll have to change the tag to show it’s yours,
We should have bought a new one I suppose,
But handlers get rough with bags on tours.
Now don’t forget those extra camping clothes.

I guess you’ll do just fine without a key,
It’s been gone so long, I can’t remember when,
Makes it easy for airport security.
Here, let me help you latch it down again.

I’m glad it can’t tell all the things it’s seen
Since it was new and I was seventeen.

Weaving Lessons

You nudge my arm,
Hand me your basket,
Needing some help?
Your silence says you can’t answer.
Are you nodding your head?
I know you can’t hear my words,
But I talk to you as if you can.

You know I can’t see,
Place my hand on the problem;
Can you read lips?
Sign is not my strong suit.
We’ll have to wing it.

Your concentration is with me,
I straighten the pattern;
An ambitious project,
This triple weave.

You reach for it,
Know where to go from here;
I tap the tub,
You drop it in;
Reeds need soaking
for a tight weave.

Weaving words from understanding,
Removing boundaries,
Crossing paths
One Summer day.
You touch “Thanks” on my arm;
“Come back anytime.”

2013-08-19  »  Marilyn Brandt Smith